


Something good

by thegirl20



Category: Murder in Suburbia (TV), Waking the Dead (TV)
Genre: Crossover, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 17:51:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirl20/pseuds/thegirl20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A weekend trip to London turns out to be quite eventful for Ash and Scribbs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something good

“I still don’t see why we  _had_  to take leave.”  
  
Scribbs rolled her eyes at her colleague’s huffy exclamation. It was at least the tenth time she’d made such a statement since lunch and it was starting to wear on her nerves a bit. They were walking down Oxford Street in London, dressed for an evening out. And Ash was still complaining about not being at work.  
  
“Ash, the reason you are being forced to take leave is because it’s the end of the holiday year and you still have  _all_  of your leave entitlement left. Plus you must be due about six months time off in lieu with the hours you put in.”  
  
“I don’t have  _all_  of my entitlement left,” Ash muttered.  
  
“No, sorry, I forgot, there was that  _one day_  you took off for your cousin’s wedding.”  
  
“Which I still say she could’ve had on a Sunday. Totally inconsiderate of those of us who work for a living.”  
  
“Whatever. If I hadn’t forced you to come away you’d have sat at home doing paperwork and checking your e-mails.”  
  
Ash pouted.   
  
“You think I’m boring.”  
  
“No, I think you’re mad.” Scribbs bumped Ash’s shoulder with her own. “C’mon, we’re in London for a long weekend of doing anything  _but_  work. Just relax and let me entertain you. I have it all planned.”  
  
“Somehow the idea of you planning out my weekend for me doesn’t result in me feeling terribly relaxed.”  
  
“Trust me, Ash, you’re going love it.”  
  
Impulsively, Scribbs took Ash’s hand and held it as they walked. Ash didn’t protest.   
  
When they arrived at their destination, Ash was pleasantly surprised. She eyed the posters outside the London Palladium with approval.  
  
“I was convinced you were going to drag me to something awful, like that one with the green people in it.”  
  
Scribbs shrugged.  
  
”Well, I thought I couldn’t go wrong with  _‘The Sound of Music’_. You probably had a thing for the Captain when you were little, didn’t you? All that regimented discipline would’ve been right up your street.”  
  
Ash raised an eyebrow.  
  
“I…”  
  
”On second thought, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know.” Scribbs gestured for Ash to enter the theatre before her. She sighed as she watched Ash’s retreating back.  
  
“No chance you fancied Julie Andrews, I suppose?” she whispered to herself before following Ash in.  
  
*  
  
They had settled into their very good seats in the stalls. Scribbs was organising her snacks for the performance and Ash was glancing disapprovingly at the various noise making foodstuffs in Scribbs’ lap. Scribbs raised her eyebrows, waiting for a comment. The lights went down so none came. They both turned their eyes to the stage, their arms gently tussling for the armrest. They settled for the compromise of sitting with their upper arms pressed together, practically leaning on one another.  
  
Scribbs glanced to the side as the stage transformed itself into the Alps. Maria’s voice rang out in the silent theatre. Ash had a gentle smile on her lips which made every second that Scribbs had spent listening to her complaining worthwhile. She turned to take in the spectacle herself. Right at that moment, a bulky object chose to fall from the heavens into the orchestra pit, resulting in a cacophony of wrong notes and Maria shrieking something very un-nun-like.  
  
Ash was on her feet immediately, making her way out of the row of seats. Scribbs sighed deeply and followed, apologising to the theatre-goers for Ash standing on their feet in her haste. By the time she caught up with her, Ash was already flashing her warrant card at the conductor and advising him to move his orchestra to the dressing rooms backstage.  
  
“Ash,” Scribbs whispered, tugging on her sleeve.  
  
“What?” Ash turned around, a huge smile on her face.  
  
“What are you doing? We don’t have any jurisdiction here.”   
  
Scribbs noticed that the audience were being herded out in the opposite direction and had a very strong compulsion to follow them.  
  
“Go and take a look in there,” Ash said, nodding her head towards the orchestra pit.  
  
Scribbs complied. In the midst of many abandoned instruments, lay a dead body. Scribbs closed her eyes. Only Ash could get excited about a dead body interrupting an evening at the theatre. With a growing feeling of dread in her stomach she traipsed back over to Ash. A couple of uniforms had turned up and Ash was having them secure the scene.  
  
“Ash, I really don’t think we should be getting involved here.”  
  
Ash dismissed that thought with a wave of her hand.  
  
“Look, we’re detectives aren’t we? Do you see any other detectives around here? No, so we have the most knowledge in the room on what to do in this situation. Now go and question Maria.”  
  
“What’s Maria going to know about it? For God’s sake Ash the body’s practically mummified, it’s hardly like she stuffed it up there this afternoon after the matinee is it?”  
  
“Just go and question her.”   
  
Ash was not being argued with and Scribbs did as she was told, fumbling in her bag to locate her own ID. She’d have to cover up the  _‘Middleford’_  bit with her finger if she was going to show it to anyone.  
  
*  
  
After completing her preliminary examination of the surrounding area, Ash busied herself with climbing into the orchestra pit to have a closer look at the body. The pungent, almost sweet, smell attacked her nostrils and she popped an extra strong mint into her mouth before getting closer. The body was obviously very old, as Scribbs had pointed out. The skin was brown and gooey looking. Ash took a pen out of her bag and used it to push the remnants of the corpse’s jacket aside.  
  
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”  
  
Ash turned to see a woman in a forensic style jumpsuit glaring down at her. She stood up and held up her ID.  
  
“Detective Inspector Ashurst, CID. And you are?”  
  
“In charge of this scene. Get out of there and stop poking about in my body or I’ll have you arrested for tampering with evidence.”  
  
Ash was not used to being spoken to in such a manner. She clambered out of the pit and approached the bolshy scientist, pulling herself up to her full height.  
  
“Look, Ms…”  
  
“Doctor. Wharton.”  
  
“…Wharton, I was attending the performance here this evening with my partner which is why I stepped in to ensure that the scene was preserved and witnesses questioned at the earliest opportunity.”  
  
“And you think that blundering in, dropping your bloody DNA all over the place is preserving the scene, do you?”  
  
Ash’s mouth dropped open. Just as she was about to let the mouthy one have it, a young blonde stepped in between them.  
  
“Hi, DS Mel Silver, pleased to meet you.”  
  
Good breeding and manners prevented Ash from ignoring the introduction and she was forced to drag her eyes away from the brown ones boring into her.  
  
“DI Kate Ashurst, Middleford CID.”  
  
Mel held out her hand and Ash shook it.  
  
“And I see you’ve met our Frankie,” Mel said, glancing over her shoulder where Frankie had made her way into the orchestra pit, still muttering.  
  
“Yes. As I was explaining to Dr Wharton, I was in the audience with my partner and wanted to ensure the scene was preserved.”  
  
Mel smiled.  
  
“Yeah, Frankie’s a bit precious about her crime scenes. We’re with the Cold Case squad, we investigate unsolved crimes. Somebody tipped us off that this might be a bit of an old one.”  
  
A raised voice startled Ash and she looked down to see one of the uniformed officers being shouted at by a tall, distinguished gentleman.  
  
“That’s Boyd, he’s the DCI.” Mel explained.  
  
“Are you all so personable down this way?” Ash enquired, watching the quaking officer practically run up the aisle.  
  
Scribbs approached, eating a tub of ice-cream.  
  
“The Maria didn’t have anything to offer. She’s a bit bonkers if you ask me. She spent most of the time wittering on about missing a high note when the body fell. She actually asked me if we could put it back up and drop it again so that she could prove she could do better.”  
  
Ash rolled her eyes.  
  
“Bloody theatre types. Scribbs, this is DS Silver. My partner, DS Emma Scribbins.”  
  
“Mel, please,” Mel said, shaking Scribbs’ hand. “So, you down here on holiday?”  
  
“A short break, yes,” Ash confirmed.  
  
“Right, well, we shouldn’t keep you long. I’ll get DS Jordan to take your statement, Kate and I’ll do Emma if that’s OK with you.”  
  
Ash felt her face grow warm at that suggestion. Mel had turned and was beckoning to an attractive black man.  
  
“Wait, how will you keep us updated on the development of the case?” Ash asked.  
  
“We don’t bloody need to know about the case, Ash.” Scribbs muttered.  
  
“Well, I…we don’t normally inform witnesses about the progression of an investigation…” Mel began, uncertainly.  
  
“Of course you don’t, it’s fine, she’s just a little uptight at the moment, which is why we’re on holiday to relax, isn’t that right, Kate?” Scribbs said, firmly.  
  
Mel looked from one to the other and came to a decision. She scribbled an address down in her notebook and pressed it into Ash’s hand.  
  
“Look, if you both happen to be in there for a drink tomorrow night at around 8, then I might be able to let you know what’s going on with the case, colleague to colleague.”  
  
Ash smiled and Scribbs groaned. DS Jordan arrived and led Ash away to take her statement. She could barely concentrate on what he was saying. Her attention was drawn by the way Scribbs seemed to be standing awfully close to DS Silver. And by the loud peals of laughter that erupted from the paid every now and again. And Ash didn’t like it. Not one bit.  
  
*  
  
The following evening, Scribbs walked dutifully beside Ash as she theorised on how a body came to be left in the rafters of the London Palladium.   
  
“…I mean, why somewhere so public? And why in such a precarious place? It’s all very intriguing, isn’t it?”  
  
“Hmmm? Oh, yeah, intriguing. This is the place, isn’t it?”  
  
Ash glanced up at the sign outside the pub.  
  
“Yes, this is it, come on.”  
  
The entered and approached the bar. Scribbs tried to get the attention of the barmaid. Ash was looking around curiously. Unexpectedly, she grasped Scribbs’ elbow.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
Ash leaned in close to Scribbs, speaking in a low whisper.  
  
“Scribbs…there are no men in this pub.”  
  
A quick once over of the room confirmed Ash’s assertion.  
  
“You’re right, Ash.”  
  
“Scribbs, I think this may be a  _lesbian_  bar.”  
  
Scribbs almost laughed out loud at the hushed emphasis.  
  
“Yep, think you’re right again, Ash. I hadn’t noticed.”  
  
“You really should try to be more observant, Scribbs. You’ll find it a great help in your role as a detective,” Ash lectured.  
  
“Yeah, well, I’m not at work, am I? I’m in a lesbian bar with you.”  
  
Ash paled.  
  
“But…but why would she want us to meet her  _here_?” she asked.  
  
Scribbs looked over Ash’s shoulder.  
  
“Well, here she is, why don’t you ask her?”  
  
Ash turned to see Mel enter, followed closely by Frankie. She turned back to Scribbs, wearing a pained expression.  
  
“Oh, no.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“She brought the moody one with her.”  
  
Scribbs raised her hand to catch Mel’s attention, and raised her eyebrow when Mel took Frankie’s hand and laced their fingers together, dragging her in the direction of the bar. Well, that solved the mystery of the meeting location. Mel let go of Frankie’s hand just before they arrived beside Ash.  
  
“Hiya, you found it then?” Mel asked.  
  
“Oh yes, we found it fine,” Scribbs confirmed.  
  
“Emma, this is Frankie, I don’t think you met yesterday,” Mel said, standing back so that they could shake hands.   
  
Ash’s lips were pressed together so tightly they were turning white. She glanced at Scribbs before turning to Mel.  
  
“So…this is…an unusual choice for a meeting place,” she said, offering a big, fake smile.  
  
Mel looked confused for a moment before realisation dawned.  
  
“Oh God…you mean…that is, the two of you aren’t…”  
  
“No,” Scribbs answered, a little wistfully.  
  
“Oh Jesus, I’m sorry. I just assumed…” she turned to Ash “…when you said she was your partner…”  
  
“She’s my  _work_  partner. We  _work_  together.” Ash stated, firmly.  
  
Frankie was taking the scene in with a quiet air of amusement, smirking at the blush that was gradually rising up Ash’s neck. Ash caught the look and narrowed her eyes at the scientist, who raised a single eyebrow in response. Ash sighed.  
  
“I’m going to the toilet, I’ll need a drink for when I get back.”  
  
The last part was directed at Scribbs, who dutifully hailed the barmaid. Frankie sidled up so that her shoulder was pressed against Scribbs’.  
  
“Soooooo, how long have you fancied her?” she asked.  
  
“Frankie!” Mel hissed, slapping Frankie lightly on the arm.  
  
“I…ages,” Scribbs admitted, deciding there was no point in lying.  
  
“She fancies you too, you know. She just hides it well under her uptight, tense, work-obsessed demeanour,” Frankie offered. Mel snorted.  
  
“What?” Frankie asked, turning to her girlfriend.  
  
“Eh? Oh, nothing…just you calling someone uptight and work-obsessed…it amused me,” Mel said with a smile.  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Well, it just seems a bit rich coming from a woman who gets her milk and newspaper delivered to  _‘The woman in the white coat, the lab, the police station’_.”  
  
Scribbs laughed along with Mel while Frankie pouted.  
  
“Yeah, but at least I loosen up when I’m on holiday. That woman would need an enterotome to draw a smile out of her.”  
  
Frankie laughed. Scribbs looked at Mel, questioningly. Mel rolled her eyes.  
  
“Mad scientist humour,” she explained. “She doesn’t realise that normal people don’t get it.”  
  
Frankie stopped laughing and scowled at Mel, who shoved her good-naturedly.  
  
“Look, Ash really isn’t as bad as you’re making her out to be…yes she’s a little uptight, but she’s a really good laugh when you get to know her. She’s funny and sweet and weird and…”  
  
“And we get the picture, thanks,” Frankie interjected.  
  
“When you said that she fancied me…why do you think that?” Scribbs asked, curious.  
  
“It’s obvious. I’m no detective, but her body-language is completely indicative of possession, she wants people to know that you’re hers and you’re not to be approached. And every time you speak to Mel she gets just a little more tense, though how that’s possible I don’t know. She’s jealous.” Frankie finished, nodding.  
  
Mel was impressed.  
  
“Since when are you the big expert on human interactions? You cut up dead people for a living.”  
  
“My sphere of expertise in the area is restricted to chatting up women in bars…I can pick out the ones that are taken a mile off.”  
  
Mel’s foot was tapping.  
  
“Is that so?”  
  
Frankie realised her mistake.  
  
“Of course, that was a while ago, when I was single.”  
  
“Mmmhmm. And if you’re such an expert at reading women, how come it took you so long to realise that I was pining away for you?”  
  
“You hid it better than these two.”  
  
“Now hang about…” Scribbs began.  
  
Frankie continued, ignoring Scribbs.  
  
“If you hadn’t got pissed and thrown yourself at me at the Christmas do, I’d still be none the wiser.”  
  
“I didn’t throw myself at you,” Mel protested.  
  
“You did. Quite literally, given that you could barely stand.”  
  
“I  _may_  have stumbled.”  
  
“You  _may_  have had fourteen vodka and cokes.”  
  
“Which  _may_  have led to me plucking up the courage to…”  
  
“Snog the face off me?” Frankie suggested.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Well, thank God for Smirnoff is all I can say!”  
  
Scribbs watched the playful exchange of banter with a sad smile on her face. Frankie and Mel seemed to have the same kind of effortless connection that she shared with Ash. Only, she imagined, they probably had a bit of sex alongside the banter.  
  
“So, are you planning on ever asking her out? Or are you going to be following her around with that puppy-dog expression for the rest of your life? Longing and randy?” Frankie asked, causing Scribbs to blush quite deeply and Mel to shake her head.  
  
“Honestly, Frankie, do you need to be so blunt to people you’ve just met?”  
  
“I’m trying to be helpful!” Frankie objected. She turned back to Scribbs. “Unless you enjoy pining after her? Maybe you’ve got a bit of a masochistic streak?”  
  
Scribbs looked confused.  
  
“No, of course I’m not planning to spend the rest of my life pining away for her. As for the masochism thing…I once did a thing with a whip that I quite enjoyed, but apart from that I hav-“  
  
“Yeah, OK, let’s leave it at that, shall we?” Frankie said before Scribbs over-shared. “As I am, apparently, the only one who knows how to deal with women here…”  
  
“Oi!” Mel said, folding her arms across her chest. Frankie ignored her.  
  
“I have a proposal which might help your situation.”  
  
Scribbs sighed and nodded for Frankie to continue. Her own efforts hadn’t paid off. She might as well take advice from a sarcastic scientist that she’d known for approximately five minutes.  
  
*  
  
Ash returned from the toilet to find Frankie leaning against the bar, drinking from a bottle of beer. Ash rolled her eyes, steeling herself for the woman’s conversation. Frankie caught her eye and gestured towards a drink sitting at her elbow.  
  
“She got you a gin and tonic,” she explained as Ash picked up the drink and sniffed it gingerly before taking a sip.  
  
Ash glanced around the room.  
  
“Where is  _‘she’_?” she asked, emphasising the word Frankie had chosen to describe Scribbs.  
  
“She’s playing pool with Mel over there.”  
  
Ash followed Frankie’s gaze and frowned.  
  
“Scribbs is awful at pool. Actually, she’s awful at most things that involve hand-eye co-ordination. She was barred from the station’s darts team after a near-miss involving the Chief Superintend….”  
  
Ash’s voice trailed off as Mel got in behind Scribbs, her hips fitting snugly against Scribbs’ bum as they leaned over the table. Mel’s arms and hands draped over Scribbs’ own as they lined up a shot. Frankie hid a smile before replying.  
  
“That’s what she said too, Mel offered to give her some tips,” Frankie said, watching as Ash’s ears turned red at the mention of Mel’s name.  
  
Ash smiled tightly.  
  
“Well, wasn’t that just  _lovely_  of her?”  
  
She picked up her drink and tipped it down her throat in one, slamming the glass down onto the bar. She wiped her mouth and gestured to the barmaid.  
  
“Another G&T. And make it a double.”  
  
*  
  
Several doubles later, and Ash’s mouth had slackened considerably. She was regaling Frankie with many, many tales of policing in suburbia. Frankie was drinking at a much slower rate and kept checking her watch, wondering why her plan wasn’t working as quickly as she’d hoped.   
  
“…and she said to him,  _‘I don’t give a stuff if you are a member of the royal family, wanking in public isn’t allowed!’_ ” Ash shook her head fondly at the memory of Scribbs’ brush with minor royalty. “That’s what I like about Scribbs…she’s straightforward. And honest. And she treats everybody the same. I like that.”  
  
Frankie leaned forward. This she could work with.  
  
“What else do you like about her?”  
  
Ash’s eyebrows gathered up in thought, her nose starting to crinkle a little with the effort. Finally, she settled on an answer that she was satisfied with. She fixed Frankie with a very serious look.  
  
“I like everything about her.”  
  
Frankie was taken aback by the honesty of the answer. She opened her mouth to respond but couldn’t think of what to say. Ash took this for a lack of understanding and continued with her explanation.  
  
“I mean, she frustrates the hell out of me, rushing into things and relying on some weird instinct thing that she seems to have, and saying the first thing that comes into her head, no matter how inappropriate…but despite all that, I know that her heart is always in the right place and that every single thing about her is genuine…so there isn’t anything about Scribbs that I could point to and say I don’t like that.”  
  
Ash closed one eye and pursed her lips.  
  
“Well, she had a bit of a dodgy fringe for a while that I wasn’t too keen on, but that’s sorted now.”  
  
Frankie laughed at the addendum to Ash’s ode to Scribbs’ perfection. She nudged Ash with her elbow.  
  
“Earlier on, when Mel thought the two of you were partners…you were pretty vehement in your denial. Something tells me now that you wouldn’t be completely opposed to the idea of being Emma’s partner.”  
  
Ash sighed deeply.  
  
“Well, there’s not much chance of that, I’m afraid. Scribbs has a tendency to go for completely inappropriate men.” She glanced over to where Scribbs and Mel were laughing, Scribbs had a hand on Mel’s shoulder and their foreheads were close together. “And, apparently, very nice, young, blonde women.”  
  
Frankie smiled.  
  
“If you went over there right now and asked her to go back to your hotel with you, she’d do it without a thought.”  
  
Ash looked at her doubtfully.  
  
“I know she would. That’s because she’d get lost if I left her here on her own and she’d phone me in the middle of the night from some abandoned tube station in the middle of nowhere that she’d somehow managed to get herself to, begging me to come and find her.”  
  
“Which you would.”  
  
“Yes, I would.”  
  
“Lack of sense of direction, aside, I think she likes everything about you as well,” Frankie tried again.  
  
Ash scoffed.  
  
“No she doesn’t! She thinks I’m a snob…and uptight and repressed and…”  
  
“ _’Funny and sweet’_  was how she chose to describe you earlier.”  
  
Ash’s head whipped around.  
  
“Earlier? When?”  
  
“When you were at the loo and she was telling me how much she fancied you but that you were completely oblivious,” Frankie said, finally running out of patience with the indirect approach.  
  
Ash’s mouth fell open. Then her eyes narrowed.  
  
“Are you lying?” she asked.  
  
Frankie rolled her eyes.  
  
“Look, Mel is my girlfriend. The reason she is currently flirting with Emma is because I said it would be a good idea to make you jealous, OK?”  
  
Ash looked dumbstruck. She blinked a few times. Then she placed her empty glass on the bar and walked over to where Mel and Scribbs were standing chatting, having finished their game of pool. Frankie followed at a discreet distance, hoping that her more direct tactics wouldn’t backfire. Ash tapped Mel on the shoulder.  
  
“Excuse me.”  
  
Mel turned around and stepped aside, casting a questioning look at Frankie, who shrugged.  
  
Ash stood for a moment, looking at a very worried Scribbs. Then she leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss against her mouth. She drew back to gauge the reaction, but didn’t get far before Scribbs grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her in for another, far less chaste, attempt.  
  
Mel made her way over to Frankie, grinning. Frankie wound an arm around Mel’s waist and they both watched the newly formed couple become quite acquainted with one another’s tonsils.  
  
When they finally tore themselves apart, strands of Ash’s hair had started to come loose and Scribbs’ lipstick was all but a memory.  
  
“Do you want to go back to the hotel?” Ash asked, slightly out of breath.  
  
“Bloody right I do!” Scribbs answered, immediately.  
  
Ash’s wide smile gave way to a concerned frown.  
  
“Just to clarify, that’s  _‘do you want to go back to the hotel to have sex?’_. You know, with me.”  
  
Scribbs laughed a little before kissing Ash squarely on the nose.  
  
“Yeah, I picked up on that bit. Answer’s still a resounding yes.”  
  
“Right,” Ash said, pleased. “Well that’s super.”  
  
“Super, smashing, jolly hockey-sticks, whatever. Let’s just get going,” Scribbs urged, pulling Ash towards the door.  
  
On the way she managed a thumbs-up in Frankie and Mel’s direction, which was returned by both. Once the door had closed behind Ash and Scribbs, Frankie and Mel both turned around and leaned their elbows on the bar, sighing in relief.  
  
“Thank God for that,” Mel said.  
  
“What are you so relieved at?” Frankie asked, incredulously. “I’m the one that had to sit and listen to amusing anecdotes about policing in the sticks for the whole night. You got to flirt with a cute blonde. Which is by far one of my favourite things to do,” she added, bumping Mel’s hip with her own.  
  
“Oh, Emma was lovely and a really good laugh,” Mel agreed. “But I was thinking that if things didn’t start moving, I was gonna have to snog her. And I wasn’t sure how that would go down with you.”  
  
Frankie shook her head.  
  
“Mel, if things hadn’t started moving I was going to tell you to throw her down on the pool table and have sex with her, never mind all this snogging rubbish!”  
  
“Well, thankfully it didn’t come to that,” Mel said, leaning over to peck Frankie on the lips.  
  
Mel’s phone beeped, signalling that a text message had arrived. A second later, Frankie’s did the same. They both reached into their pockets and pulled out their mobiles.  
  
Frankie smiled.  
  
“It’s Emma texting to say thank you.”  
  
Mel laughed.  
  
“Mine isn’t. Mine is Kate texting to say that as we never got around to the update on the case, could I please send my report to her work e-mail address.”  
  
“Bloody hell, imagine thinking about work when you’re about to get a shag,” Frankie said, shaking her head.  
  
“Says the woman who once shouted out  _‘haemoperfusion!’_  in the middle of sex.”  
  
“It came to me suddenly. And it was an important breakthrough in the case.”  
  
“It was a bit of a passion killer though, wasn’t it?”  
  
Frankie tilted her head to the side and smiled.  
  
“But you love me anyway, eh?”  
  
Mel rolled her eyes dramatically.  
  
“What can I say? I’m a sucker for a woman in a lab coat.”  
  
Frankie reached out and hooked her pinkie around Mel’s, swinging their hands gently back and forth.  
  
“How about we head home and I try to not shout out any medical terms in the throes of passion?”  
  
Mel smiled.  
  
“Can we get chips on the way?”  
  
“Definitely.”  
  
“Sold.”


End file.
